Dear Fred
by Kokis
Summary: Dear Fred... No, scratch that. It makes it sound like you’re someplace else, somewhere far away, somewhere I can’t reach. Hi… sounds better, much more like you, or wait, me? Things have been a bit crazy here lately...


Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any characters or anything at all related to Harry Potter.

Warnings: SPOILERS!!!!! Heavy SPOILERS for the last book!!! Do not read if you don't know what's going to happen already, and do not blame me if you do read it anyway...

This piece was cowritten by me and thefuturefreaksmeout. I wrote the original and she made the final editing and added the pretty details. )

Thank you Emma!

The inspiration to this came from some wonderful songs which lyrics really got to me. They are called:

Zzyzx Rd - Stone Sour

Cat and mouse – the red jumpsuit apparatus

_' ' '' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '' '' ' __' ' '' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '' '' '_

_Dear Fr__ed_... No, scratch that. It makes it sound like you're someplace else, somewhere far away, somewhere I can't reach. _Hi_… sounds better, much more like you, or wait, me?

I **want** or _need_ to talk to you (I can't really tell which one's the winner in this case, all I know is that it burns and I am confused). But for now a letter will have to do, I guess. It's the best I can do, and you're one of the few being to able to read my hopeless attempts of writing so I hope this'll reach you... I hope it'll take away some of the pain.

Things have been a bit crazy here lately you might have noticed? We're not very good with coping with all of this, losing and stuff…you know Mom and the way she is when it comes to family. It's hard…

It didn't exactly help when I gave her a hanky that made her nose purple, either. Remember when we invented those things; my nose was purple for a week. That memory used to make me smile; now I just get sad. Anyhow, she tried to chase me up the stairs, yelling at me, like she used to do at us, before she gave up and slumped down somewhere near the middle. Near the place where all the stains are from when we made Ron's nose bleed so bad. She just sat there, shaking and blowing her nose. Not caring that the purple smeared the whole of her face. (_It's so unlike Mom, Fred, it makes me worried…)_.

I hate it when she cries. At least the whole incident made Ginny smile a little, the tiniest of twitches around the corners of her lips, but still a smile. I haven't seen that in ages. Not since you... well...

I miss you, every single thing about you, even the annoying stuff. I miss the crinkles around your eyes when you smiled; I miss your voice matching my own. It sounds so empty, so alone now when you're not there to complete my sentences.

I hate how I used to hate that I never got to have anything to myself, not even my words, but now I give them all to have you back. Most of all I miss the feeling of never being afraid, because you were always by my side, always there and never far away. You're not anymore, and it, it hurts…

I'm scared now... _so scared._

It's strange but (somehow, I don't know why), I don't feel at home here anymore. Nothing's the same and it's so quiet now, too quiet and I feel uncomfortable, the silence is almost deafening. Sound used to be you, and it was always all around you (_us?_). Laughter, music, taunting, talking, persuading, luring, always something, even if it wasn't words, your body language said so much. Now there's nothing and I don't know what to do about it.

I could blast my walls out with some of your annoying rock music (I kind of like it now, you know, but I'd never tell you that though). I tried that and the only thing I accomplished with that was getting Mom irritated, and then she burst into tears because that slow song started playing, that special one, our one, the one we played when we couldn't sleep and it was too dark even for us.

I could scream my throat raw but I've tried that as well. It didn't work. You didn't hear me, or at least you didn't answer. All I got was pain, and that's not good enough. You hear that?!! Not good enough!

I'm not very good at being alone, and you knew that, still… you weren't either, so why? I guess we were never meant to be apart. We were born together and we should have died together, but things didn't work out that way, and I am sorry, god I am sorry. You and I, we were meant to be together forever and ever and all that jazz… but it's no use thinking about that now, is it?

You left, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. A part of me will never forgive you for that; while another part will never forgive myself for letting you go. I could have done something, anything?

I haven't been in touch with the others yet, our friends or what to say. They've called but I pretended I wasn't home; I locked my door, shut the blinds and cranked up the volume as you would have said. Mom understood and told them some stupid lie about playing ball in the garden. Ball?! Out of all things…

Really, I am not home, not anymore (_your fault_). I feel like I'm standing somewhere outside myself, watching a movie from far away and it's a bad movie too, a really crappy, shitty one, but I can't shut it of, because I still don't know the ending. This is all is just too bizarre to be a part of my life. When did my life become a movie-set with such a low budget and with no hot chicks? I wanted something a little more James Bond, a little more action, some romance, and then you. Two heroes, united.

I know you hate me for behaving like this, for almost giving up. You told me last night, whispered to me in my sleep, but I heard. You told me I was being stupid, then you laughed and punched my shoulder like we used to do when an 'I love you' sounded too cheesy, but that was what we really wanted to say and punching was a little more macho.

It woke me up but you were gone before my eyes were able to focus. I didn't see you but I could swear I felt the warmth of where you had been sitting. (I rested my head on that spot until it turned cold and I didn't feel anymore). I cried, but please don't laugh at me because of it, I couldn't help myself.

Tell me you were here? Tell me you haven't left me for real? Tell me something?

I've been spending most of my time alone, doing nothing mostly. Going through our stuff, everything we have created, collected and saved for 'later use', whatever we meant with that. I think of all the plans we had made, every dream, everything we had left to do. Run the shop, get rich and famous, hook up with a pretty girl and get at least seven kids each, growing old together, telling our grandchildren about the good old days.

It would have been so much fun and now it's all gone. All the plans are useless now. I can't do it without you. I don't know how. Hell, I don't even know how to live without you, how to breathe properly, how to eat without choking and how to laugh without tears in my eyes.

It's hard to find peace nowadays, so hard. Everywhere I turn there's a memory of you. Even in the smallest of things, like a fork or a knife. I remember how you held it, or talked about it. How you smiled at it or threw it at me. It's like you left little pieces of yourself behind everywhere to keep us company, but it's so painful, especially now when we're trying to move on.

I've been taking walks to try and clear my mind, going all the way up to the cliff behind grandmas. The one where we agreed it'd all end if it ever came to this. It's so tempting now. It would be so easy. One single step and we would be together again. I've been standing on the edge for hours, looking down into the depth at the rocks below, thinking it would be a glorious fall and most of all, no more silence. But one of your stupid, stupid songs stuck in my head and every time I stand there it keeps on playing, the same line over and over again. If I'm ready to die for you I have to live for you too. It's true, but it's hard and I never play that song anymore. It's etched too deep...

Half of you still live in me, and half of me still live in you. I can't stand to lose you again, because killing myself would be killing that part of you still being here with us. You left me with such a huge responsibility and I'm not sure I can carry it all. I worry too much about you, how you are, how you feel, if you make jokes without me, if laughing is as hard for you as it is for me now?

It was so much easier when you were here beside me and nothing could stop us.

Sometimes I wish I could be as careless as Percy, but then again I know that's not really true. He cares somewhere inside his heart. I just wish I had his talent for leaving things where they fall and walk on with a smile plastered on my face. Like you always did, only difference between you and him, yours was real, he's just pretend.

I'll always remember that last smile you displayed. Sometimes I think it was meant only for me. A message, saying: "ha-ha, I beat you to this one, brother…" It would be such a good memory of you.

You were always the first to rush into things, blind for the things around you, but why did you have to hurry so much in to this one? What about the things you left behind, what about us, what about me, Fred, what about me? Didn't you realise you murdered me, murdered your own brother?

I died along with you on that cold stone floor. That half of me that lived within you will never return, it's gone, and I miss you so bad. Maybe I can carry on, if it's possible to live with half a heart and half a soul, I still don't know, but I will never, not ever again become the George that I used to be. He lives with you in heaven, I hope you know that, I hope to god we are smiling up there, playing pranks on the angles, getting their pretty white dresses all filthy and that we sleep all curled up together like we used to do when we were small and most of all, once more, I hope to see you soon.

Love

_George_


End file.
